I shook my head. "The house staff has enough to do. Maybe when we're done, and it needs a final polish before Savannah and Nicky move in."
Before our father's murder and the attempts on Griffen and Royal, we could have just hired temporary help for a few days. Now every staff member had to go through extensive background checks. It wasn't worth the effort when I had two hands and could do the grunt work myself. "I've got it," I reassured them.
Griffen nodded, sharing a long look with Hope that I didn't understand. Sometimes it seemed like those two could have whole conversations just with their eyes. "I asked you to come by my office partly to check in, but mostly to share some information and ask for your input."
I straightened, wiping my palms on my shorts. "What's wrong?" My eyes popped from Griffen to Hope, but they gave away nothing.
"Nothing's wrong," Griffen reassured, before changing the subject. "Any progress with Tyler? Have you talked to any of the Kingsleys?"
I shook my head. "Nothing new with Tyler. He's still running out the deadline on the motion he's supposed to file. I talk to Claudia every few days, but that's it."
I didn't mention Nash. Why would I? It wasn't like we'd spoken. Or texted. I was trying not to feel resentful about that.See you soon.Why would he have said that? Unless he was just being polite.
Shut up Parker, I ordered myself.Stop obsessing and move on.
I was trying. I really was. But Nash Kingsley is not a man you just forget. I should know. I'd tried hard enough.
ChapterFourteen
PARKER
"Why do you ask?" I tried to keep my voice neutral, as if it didn't matter and there was nothing to worry about. I don't know who I was trying to convince, Hope and Griffen or myself.
Griffen cleared his throat. "We got an interesting message from your brother-in-law."
"From Nash?" We all pretended we hadn't heard my voice crack. I swallowed and forged ahead. "Why would Nash contact you?" A horrible thought occurred to me. "He wasn't... checking in on me, was he? He's been very kind but–"
The thought of Nash checking up on me with my brother sent a scalding wave of humiliation across my face.
Griffen shook his head. "No, nothing like that. In fact, he didn't mention you at all."
Somehow, that was worse. Ugh. Why did I even care? Taking a slow sip of my lemonade, as if I couldn't possibly be concerned about Nash, I asked, "What did he want?"
"Do you know anything about his business?" Hope raised an eyebrow.
I shook my head. "Not really. Only that he works in tech, has started and sold off some startups, and he makes a big splash whenever he has a new company." There, that sounded appropriately detached, didn't it? Like I cared, but only a little.
I wasn't going to think about that pic I'd seen of him on an online gossip site attending a gala in New York last weekend, a tall, glamorous woman on his arm. The press loved Nash Kingsley–his ambitious startups, his bad-boy persona. Last year they'd gotten a shot of him on his motorcycle, his dark hair mussed, his black leather jacket well worn. I'd saved that one, hiding it on my phone among pics of a vacation Tyler had hated so he'd never find it.
"He's made some interesting advances in tech," Griffen said, "but his latest venture has the potential to be ground-breaking. For the last year, he's been working with his own team, under strict secrecy, while looking for investors to bring it to the next level."
"I didn't think Nash had to work that hard to find investors." As far as I knew, the money people would kill each other for the chance to own a slice of one of his companies.
"Usually, he doesn't," Hope explained, "but with this project, he's looking for a long-term commitment, and investors he wants to work with personally."
"He's not going to sell this one?" I asked, more curious than I wanted to admit.
"I'm guessing not," Griffen filled in. "We've had feelers out for a long-term tech investment. Something new and interesting, and not something that's going to the highest bidder as soon as it has proof of concept."
"Did you find Nash, or did he come to you?"
"A little of both," Hope said, pulling the cover off another plate to reveal a selection of cookies. Helping herself to a gingersnap, she pushed the plate my way. I wasn't going to turn down a chocolate chip cookie.
"The thing is," Griffen continued, "part of our interest is in bringing new industry to Sawyers Bend. This is a desirable place to live, but we're lacking in jobs, aside from the tourist industry. Prentice closed the quarry and mill, but there are other options. Something like Nash's new venture is exactly what we're looking for. It'll start small, especially as he's still in the development phase, but it has the potential to provide the kind of jobs we'd like to attract."
"And we have office space already available for him," Hope added. "As long as you're okay with it."
My eyebrows shot up. "As long as I'm okay with it?"
